FOOTNOTES: September 25, 1916
Source: The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats (1989)
FOOTNOTES: September 25, 1916
Source: The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats (1989)
I think its amazing the different powers the exact same words can evoke and responses produced depending on if they are spoken or written. Being able to say a word with a hundred and one inflections/intonations and a hundred and one facial expressions to accompany those inflections/intonations with that word means that the person that utters the word has quiet a lot of control on how it’s interpreted. Where as the written word is there in front of the readers eyes in the context of a sentence or a single word like a dictionary with descriptions of the word. This in itself means the author of whats written has lost the control of making sure that the reader understands exactly what was said and the reader becomes in charge of that word and how they feel they want to interpret it. Also with the written word you do not have the luxury of seeing that the reader doesn’t understand for what ever reason on lots of levels.
Just by this transference of meanings from the author to the reader means that you are more likely to experience other people’s objections in the form of written responses these may be negatives or critique. For example when I use the word cunt a lovely word I can sometimes to be offensive and sometimes not. I use it more when typing because to me if doesn’t feel so offensive as when it is spoken, but when I do use it in spoken language I never get challenged as it is deemed appropriate at the time by the people who hear it. Where with written yet not in my eyes seeming so offensive gets challanged regularly. Are you less likely to get that response because your spoken word is controlled by you and understood by the listener on so many more levels, where as the written word is always open to interpretation like this blog?
Just a thought
This was going to be a post on face book but it seems too important to dismiss it as a status update. I’m not even sure if this is what I should be doing but I have to tell you about the surreal events of the day even just to try and get them out of my head. There is no lead up to this it just happened and then the aftermath.
Returning home on the M6 towards London the traffic was steady and I was on the fast lane which happened not be that fast as the weather was shit and all lanes were at a steady 65/70mph when for seemingly no reason what so ever the car in front of me turned to the left and crossed over the two lanes and crashed himself into the back left corner of a Lorry on the slow lane and from that point on everything is on a loop.
I watched a thousand pieces explode into the air and spray all over the road. I pulled the car to a stop, put on the hazard lights jumped out of the car and found myself running down and across the motorway dodging the slowing traffic to the crumpled car. The ringing of car alarm was piercing the air and things in the engine were still running. As I approached I saw that the driver was in a serious situation but he was breathing. I ran to the drivers side and told the driver it was Ok I was there. He had large cuts to the head with blood running down his neck, he had swollen eyes that were almost bulging. His arm was gashed and serious amounts of bone was visible. I muttered that it would be ok again but hadn’t a clue what to do but I did know that I shouldn’t move him. I ran back round to the passenger side and pulled open the door to see if I could get to him at this point I realised that this was so serious we could loose this man. Where his lower legs should have been was the engine block.
The car alarm was the only thing you could hear breaking silence as though everything else in the world had been suspended. I knew there was nothing I could do except stand there and comfort him till help arrived. As I passed the front of the car to get back to him, a man was pulling at the wires in the engine until the alarm was silenced. I stood at the window and carried on talking when from behind me a woman came through and said she was a nurse and relieved me from my position.
Men were running around on their phones talking to the emergency services trying to pin point were we were on the motorway. I then noticed the lorry driver was on the road and I asked him if he was alright and he was obviously in shock. At this point I realised that traffic was still heading for us and I put on a High vis and I took myself onto the road and stood there waving and signalling to the cars and lorries coming towards us to alert them of the danger. I kicked in all the debris of the road so there was none to cause a further accident. I kicked the head light, a wing mirror, wires, and so much plastic, and I can remember shouting around to see if anyone had any warning triangles in the car? Then the blue flashing lights could be seen approaching us down the hard shoulder.
The police took over and the cones were placed. I ran to my car and drove it over to the hard shoulder along with car behind me out of the way of the traffic and harms way. Within minutes more police cars, fire engines and ambulances arrived and myself and others took a step back as we were asked to wait to speak to an officer. Blankets and machinery where deployed, cutting machines were ready and waiting. All this time the lorry driver was wandering about, to me he was in shock and I called to the ambulance worker that he needed some attention. All the traffic had been diverted at this point and the air ambulance circled overhead ready to land as soon as the road cleared.
As we stood around myself and others recounted what happened. I watched from a distance as the feeling of adrenaline started to make me feel sick and shiver. I took myself away from the group and phoned my mum and dad whom I had told I was going call as soon as I got home so they knew I had arrived safe. I started retching and crouched myself down so not to be seen throwing up it wasn’t comparable to what was going on around me. As I stood up I noticed above us the slip road on to the motorway was full of stationary traffic and people had got out of their cars, opened their windows and were filming the accident and from their viewpoint could see into the car. The wave of disgust made me call them out. I can’t remember what I shouted something like “what the fuck are you doing? Get a fucking Life !” Followed by calling them cunts. I walked down the bank back to the group and they were in agreement with my sentiments.
The Air ambulance landed and came to ask us to recount what we saw to establish what injuries they had on their hands. We stood around for a while and I asked if anyone had a cigarette I’m not a smoker but needed to calm my adrenaline and nausea. I took a couple of pulls as we talked about how close we were to it being in that carnage trying to make sense of what we had witnessed. The police officer came over to take a brief statement of events and take down my details. We were told we could leave and I said that I wanted to see him put into the ambulance. The police officer replied that I may not like what I see and that there was life changing injuries and I said I know he had lost his legs I saw it. As I was getting in the car another came over and told me to get warm and added that if any of the people filming uploaded their footage at least the people watching would hear me calling them cunts and he shouldn’t say it but he agreed.
The drive home was a blur. I drove in the slow lane. Even though I was the only car on both sides of the motorway. My thoughts kept on returning to the fact that some family somewhere had just had their life changed forever. Somebodies husband, a father, a son may not make it and if they did their lives will never be the same again. I got home and had a cry. I lay in the bath and everything that happened played out in my head, and keeps playing in my head, the car cutting across the road, the slow motion effect that everyone tells you about, the feeling of mortality and the deep sense of involvement in someone’s life, and you don’t even know their name.
Sending my love and thoughts to the man in the car and his family.
Today I got a phone call from West Midlands Police investigation unit to inform me that the gentleman I attended to in last week’s accident has died. I am gutted, after talking to them the day after the accident the message was that they had spent all night operating on him to save his legs and that he was with his family. So I assumed he was at least alive and a big weight was taken from me. Well today that weight just came crashing down on me and I still don’t know his name I forgot to ask. Gutted for his family this last week must have been hell. Again I don’t know what to feel but total loss for a stranger.
Today I carried out my formal interview his name was Harry